Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-04-03
4 SENTIMENTAL SOLICITOR


tEclsrayia.l
John Anthony McArlle was soiici.
tor. That was bad enough Of itself.
But the malign fate that had evolved
him ffom chaos into the Incorporated
Law Society had done him even more
grievous wrong. He looked solicitor.
Responsibility was indolibly stamped
upon him. Law lowered from his heavy
brcws, and equity was exempliiied in
the even parting of his hair. His lips
were demurrers in tie nselves. and
there were pleadings in his very eyes,
His figure was short and close and CON-
pact, hike q well-drawn affidavit, and his
gait was as even and precise as the
measured periods ofsenior counsel. He
was concrete commonplace in appear
ance mere statement OF facts, with
no faintest CLEAN OF romance shining
about him. Eccentrcity in dress, in
hair, in necktie, he was debarred
from by the etiquette OF the
profession, and his sartorial en-
yironment seemed to 5uit his
inner self. The most imaginative of
portrait-painters could have conceived
no other background 10 him than an
array OF japanned deed-boxes. 1t had
even been said by an irreyerent friend
that he never seemed full dressed save
when carrying black bag. There was
sensation of incompleteness, of want
Of finish, when one saw him at other
times, such as might be felt in the con-
temptation of parson without white
neckcloth, or fore quarter OF lamb
without mint sauce.
The sting of all this lay in the fact
that John Anthony was IN reality q
poet. Nature had given him the soul
Of q songster-Fate Enclosed him in the
skin of solicitor 1t was bis delight
10 sit down at his desk after q day OF
weary attendance in court and, with
MANY clean sheets of "ruled pro before
him, to relieve himself of the accumu-
lated pocsy within in verses full OF wild
yearning and passionate sorrow. Hewas
none OF your milk-and-water poets,
spinning verbal prettinesses about
flowers and sunsets. Love and Liberty |
were the key-notes Of his song. He be-
lieved himself to have capabilities for
love such as few men here below are
endowed with. There was in him, he |
knew, capacity for deep, devouring,
reckless, boundless passion, which |
should spring up some day at
the approach of the foredestined |
mistress OF his soul, and go forth |
10 meet her, overwhelming opposi-
ton, sweeping difficulties from its path. |
IL had made q few false starts, to be |
nne-some ten or twelve-mistaking
various maidens OF suburban society for |
the Fate-ordained Dulcinea. But that
was q detail. They had served some
useful purpose, these tocum-tenentes
goddesses, giving material for many |
verses of the erotic Sort in which there |
was q good deal Of the future tense and
the subjunctive mood.
The chief of his grievances was the |
difficulty he had in getting people to
take him seriously. There is no reason
why solicitor should not be a poet
Robert Burns had been q plowman,
Kirk White butcher-at least butch
er's boy. Surely the transition from
the Court of Common Pleas to Parnas-
sus WAS less abrupt than leap |
from beefsteaks to hexameters |
No one could question the ten
dency of the profession to develop |
the inventive faculties. Was there
any reason why invention, hampered |
by the law as to bills of costs, should |
not find vent in the direction Of |
poetry? Apparently not; but the |
world was skeptical and would persist |
in valuing him for his legal knowledge |
and ignoring his verses. He had the
misfortune to know his business well,
and to have inherited good practice
from his father, whence it followed that
he was sought after in society and
favored of mothers. Young ladies
would sympathize with him, regard
ing him in innocent wide-eyed wonder
as something superhuman in the union
of diverse gifts. They would crave
help in the filing of their albums from
him-a request generally refused, for
he disdained such trivialities-and show
him, perhaps over-plainly, that they
were ready to believe in him. Even this |
was not satisfactory, though undeniaMy |
soothing. He could see the worth of |
such simulated appreciation. The lady |
OF his love was not to be one OF these
society misses, talking smooth COM
monplaces, occupying all her little soul
in the devising of fashionable dresses, in
the pursuit Of dancing and fiirtation-a
daintily clad, prettily spoken, soulless
doll. She would be very different. But
as yet she came not, and he had reached
his twenty-eighth year in profitless
waiting.
Ii was about II o'clock Of winters
night, and he sat in his room, his So
licitor exterior somewhat disguised
under evening garb. A friend, whose
avocation was banking and whose
name-Bill Rafter-was unpretentious,
faced him. Both were smoking, the
poet cigarette, Bill a dirty meer-
schaum.
al am in love, Bill, he said.
"Again p said Bill mildly.
"Oh, bother. L have never loved
yet
"Umi" said ELL. "There was
Phyllis, and"
II know all that Ihave had fancies.
Only fancies. Lcoi how easily got
over them"
:" You aid" Bill admitted. Al
WAYS"
"That shows. When a man loves
loves-he doesn't get over it. A man
may imagine he cares fora woman, may |
endow her with attributes she hasn't |
got, and for q short time rave in fan
cied delirium about her. He may
eyeD----"
"Marry her. You went near it
once"
"well--yes. But marriage has no.
thing to do with it. Marriage is de-
tail"
$50 are kids. Unnecessary details"
"Of course. But what l mean is
this: have the capacity OF love within
me--of mad, unmeasured, blind pas
sion. No. having experienced it yet,
] don't know exactly how it will begin.
don't suppose it will strike me all at
once like an electric shock. It's only |
in novels they do things like that. You
must experiment for little while
must test yourself, must observe your
feelings when you are with her. You
must"
ssHug her bit and see how you like
- That vour notion of ayparimaut